Heart's Shadows
by Ocne
Summary: A simple game gone wrong opens unhealed wounds for Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir as they struggle with their memories and their own darkness. And what about Estel?
1. The call of adventure

**Author's Notes** : Welcome to my new story! _Heart's Shadows_ is a sequel to _Thawing_, but can be read alone. It is also a translation (and a rewrite, when necessary) of _La valse du cœur et de la nuit_.

A few words of warning about the upcoming content of the story. I rated it **T** for now, because I'd like more readers to be aware that the story exists. But the rating will go up to **M**, and a very strong M at that, rather quickly. The reason will become fairly clear at the end of this chapter, I think. _Hearts' Shadow_ is a dark and violent AU.

**Disclamer **: You are aware I am not Tolkien, right? And I don't have a beta, so all mistakes are my own. Point them out, and you'll help this author to write better.

All right, on to the story.

**Chapter 1  
**

**The call of adventure  
**

The stars were flickering and disappearing in the eastern sky at the approach of the dawn. Estel's nostrils flared. In the crisp autumn wind, the russet-colored leaves of the old oak whispered around him. The acorns, invisible in the dark, brushed against each other with little dry sounds. Estel stretched, arching his back and his neck. His arms and legs felt stiff after the night spent in the tree, so he stretched them one at a time, bringing the circulation back, waking up his body gradually without losing his hold on the oak's branch.

This tree was his friend. Estel knew its every bough, its every crack and crevice in the bark. He knew where the birds loved to nest in the spring and to where the squirrels scuttled for shelter. A smile played on the boy's lips as he thought about his very first lesson in tree-climbing. He had just turned six then and he had been asking Elladan and Elrohir to teach him for as long as he could remember.

_Perhaps, pestering is a better term_, thought Estel with a quiet laugh, remembering his elven brothers long-suffering looks.

When the twins had finally consented, they had brought him here, at the foot of this oak. Estel had mirrored Elrohir's movements up to the third branch, where, excited and inexperienced, he had straightened up too quickly and had lost his balance. Elrohir's outstretched hand had caught only the air, as the child, limbs flailing, had already tumbled down... to land into Elladan's waiting arms. Estel had laughed, for he had loved the brief moment of flight. Then, in a window of the second floor, he had caught a glimpse of his mother's livid face, and had burst into tears.

Estel shook his head. He was twelve now, and it had been three days since his mother had gone to Eriador on a visit.

The sky was brightening with the coming dawn. Estel slipped down, moving from branch to branch with silent grace. His feet landed on the dew drenched ground with a slight thump. Estel crouched at the base of the oak, making himself as small as possible. If his elven brothers saw him, or if anyone else did, for that matter, his adventure would be short-lived indeed. To his relief, not a sound came from the house of lord Elrond. Lanterns sparkled here and there like on every other night.

_An elvish home darkens in death only._

Estel swallowed, surprised by the strange thought. A shiver went up his spine, but the moment passed. All remained quiet and Estel, confident that the way was free, ran to a velvety-leafed bush.

He had planned everything, yesterday. It was a game between Elladan, Elrohir and him. The elven brothers were teaching him woodcraft, and Estel strived to demonstrate his progresses. He would seize every opportunity to slip unnoticed into the woods. And then he would run, using all the stealth that he could muster to cover his tracks. Elladan and Elrohir would follow, of course. The first time, they had caught up with Estel after a mere half of a mile. They had been displeased that he had ventured out alone. But they had been amused also, and so Estel continued this game of hide and seek. And the opportunity, that presented itself yesterday in the guise of an elven sentinel, was just too good to miss.

The guard had galloped into the courtyard, had dismounted and had leapt up the stairs, asking to see lord Elrond in a breathless haste. After that, all the lessons that Elrond used to teach Estel himself were entrusted to Lindir.

'Lindir will take my place as your tutor for the next few days,' Elrond had told Estel before moving away, surrounded by, Glorfindel, Elladan, Elrohir and several other counselors.

Estel's decision had been made then and there. It had been several weeks since his last excursion into the woods of Imladris. And even though Estel had nothing against Lindir, still, the boy preferred to him the smells of the forest and the freedom of the wind on the river. Since he had been left to his own devices, yestereve, he had had ample time to make preparations. He had readied a basket with food and had concealed it here, under the bush, in the lair overgrown with thin, yellow grass. A fox family had lived here last summer. But the little ones had grown up and left. The vixen, her tawny pelt peppered with white, was gone soon afterwards.

Estel lifted a cloth to check that no wild animal had discovered his provisions. The apples, the hard cheese and the bread were intact. Estel thought wistfully about _lembas_ that he had seen during his foray into the kitchen. He hadn't dared take any ; _lembas_ was for the warriors and the guards on the far outposts who could not abandon their duty to hunt. But Estel wished that he could have had some anyway, so that he could resemble a wanderer even more. If not a wanderer, then he wouldn't mind to be like Mithrandir, the Grey Pilgrim, who had passed by Rivendell two summers ago. Estel shook with silent laughter. What an idea! He could never be like Mithrandir, who, under the disguise of an old men, came and went across the ages.

The night was almost gone. Estel lifted the basket and dashed for the trees. A memory came to him even as he stepped, nimble like a wildcat, on the stones and on the tree roots rather than on the humid, soft loam that would have betrayed his path. In his mind's eye, the boy saw an exasperated Elladan chide him after one such escapade :

'Estel, will you ever stop with this game of yours? It's not safe.'

Estel snorted at the recollection. Unsafe? Imladris? Now that was an alien notion. And even though Estel hoped that his stealth had improved somewhat since that first time, he knew that Elladan and Elrohir would follow him, come morning, and would catch up with him soon enough. But in leaving now, while the house lay quiet and dreaming, Estel could at least have a head start on his elven brothers.

With the breaking of the day, the clouds crowded the sky. Even the birds sang in muted voices. A heavy, moisture-filled dampness clung to the trees and the sky seemed to press on their branches. It wasn't raining, at least. Estel felt grateful for that. He walked for the better part of the morning. It was difficult to measure the passage of the time in the grey light, but, at some point, Estel tired. The basket filled with food for three started to weight him down. Estel left the twilight of the pines and firs for the banks of the Bruinen. He put down his load and straightened, welcoming the respite. The air had been so still under the trees. Here, in the open, the wind tugged at his clothes with a slightly chilly touch. It cooled the sweat upon his face. The boy brushed the dark strands of hair from his eyes with a smug smile. Never before had he made it so far alone. He had earned a little rest.

He drank his fill from the river, than lay down on the brown, sandy bank, his hands clasped behind his head. His eyelids drooped. When Estel opened his eyes again, he lay on his side and the Bruinen shone before him like liquid _mithril_. Estel yawned with a frown. Had he slept? He must have, for the sun, shining from a break in the clouds was in the West. It was well past mid-day. Estel sat up. Decidedly, the night in the tree hadn't agreed with him. The boy shrugged, half-amused and half-saddened. He knew since he was seven that he was not an elf and that he could not equal elven strength and endurance. Still, he hadn't suspected the difference to be so glaring.

The wind was picking up. The Bruinen reflected the sun in bright, silver shards of light. Somehow, the light reminded Estel of the eyes of the two men who had come to Imladris to accompany Gilraen on the road to Eriador. They were almost as tall as elves, and they had bowed before him when Estel had come upon them in the great hall. He had returned their gesture, confused. Surely, it was his place to show respect to adults, not the other way around? The boy, kneeling by the river, shifted uneasily. It was strange, the way these men's eyes had fastened on him and hadn't shifted even at his mother's approach.

The clouds hid the sun and the shimmering light on the waves went out, bringing Estel back to reality. He stood up to prepare the picnic. Four flat, smooth stones at each corner of a white cloth completed the makeshift tablecloth. The boy split up the food provisions he had brought in three parts. Elladan and Elrohir should not be long. But, oh, now he wished that they were here already! Estel hadn't eaten anything since yesterday and the bread, smelling of honey and butter, made his mouth water. The boy swallowed. No, he would not start without his elven brothers.

A twig broke behind his back and Estel smiled.

'Finally!' he called out without turning. 'It took you long enough!'

He received only silence for an answer. The wind moaned in the trees and the river shivered. The sun chose that instant to break free from the clouds. On the pure, white tablecloth Estel saw the black shadow of a twisted, gnarled, clawed hand reaching to grasp him from behind. The boy threw himself forward with a choked gasp. He scrambled on all fours to put some distance between himself and whatever thing was at his back. Then he whirled around, rising and unsheathing his sword at the same time. His breath caught in his throat at the nightmarish vision before him. Elladan and Elrohir had been instructing him in the ways of the sword, but this... This was for real. The creature was more than two heads taller than him. Its clawed fists larger than Estel's head. The boy's legs felt unsteady. His sword shook. The broken shards of light reflecting from the blade leaped around like panicked animals. One struck the creature in the eyes.

The orc growled, squinting. The low, raspy sound jarred Estel's senses back to the here and now. He sprang aside when the orc lifted a mace. The blow that would have taken his head off whistled harmlessly by his right ear and struck the basket instead. It fell apart, broken to pieces. The green and red apples rolled into the river. Estel's breath sounded harsh to his own ears as he directed his blade point forward and stepped into his attacker. The sword, Estel's very first steel blade, a gift from Elrond, entered the large body up to the hilt. The orc howled. His hand slashed blindly, leaving five bloody trails on the boy's cheek. Estel's breath came in short, uneven gasps as he stepped away. His sword left the orc's innards with a wet, sucking sound. The beast sputtered, still growling, still searching to advance on Estel, but its legs gave way and it collapsed amidst the spoiled food.

Estel stood still, unable to tear his gaze away from the greenish bowels that shivered on the once-white cloth.

This, then, was an orc.

The boy had seen many pictures of them in lord Elrond's books. But an image could never convey the bitter taste of fear in his mouth, the reek of death in his nostrils nor the black blood that covered his hands. His sword still clasped in a fist gone numb, Estel fell to his knees and retched.

This, then, was death.

The heaves left Estel shuddering and weak. Supporting himself with his sword arm, he wiped his mouth with the back of his free hand, and looked up. He had felt movement at the edge of his consciousness. Had Elladan and Elrohir come?

The sun was gone. From the darkness under the pine trees, a troop of orcs was heading towards him.

* * *

**Elrond's Child** : Well, here is more. I'm glad that my different take on the twins was okay for you. For they will have a role to play in this story. How could they not? I will expand more on Elladan and Elrohir. But you'll have to read on (if the darkness of the story is all right for you) to see if the healing can be an option.

Thank you for your review!

**Guest** : Good observation! A three years old child climbing trees would have been a little odd. Estel is twelve here. And I'm afraid that he's got more serious problems at hand than climbing.

Thank you for reading and reviewing.


	2. The hunt

**Author's note** : Okay, I decided to keep the T rating for this chapter. Please take note that the rating will be M from chapter 3 onwards.

**Chapter 2**

**The hunt**

Lindir fiddled with parchments and quills strewn upon the table of lord Elrond's study. Clearly, his wayward charge wasn't going to show up this morning for his lessons. The elf had waited. What were a mere couple of hours for one such as he? If the boy wished to see who would lose patience first... With time, this child of men would learn. Estel would leave his youthful ways behind soon enough. In the meantime, he was filled with an irrepressible desire to explore the limits of elven patience, it would seem.

_Explore__, _Lindir repeated to himself as he rose from the table and strode towards the window. The pine trees seemed dark in the muted light that filtered through the clouds. The waterfall had a greyish hue about it. _Limits,_ thought the elf.

Lindir folded his arms before him and frowned in apprehension. What if Estel had decided to explore the grounds? It seemed unlikely that the boy would be so rash, given the tidings of at least seven orc parties, each thirty to fifty strong, prowling the borders of Imladris. Of course, the orcs could not set foot into the vale protected by lord Elrond's power. The woods around the Last Homely House were safe, as long as Estel stayed close by. It was the possibility that the boy, in his inexperience, would venture out too far that drew Lindir away from the window and down a flight of stairs, heading to the courtyard.

The orcs would never enter Imladris, but the limits of the protection were not set in stone, nor were they as clearly etched, elsewhere in the valley, as the boundaries set by the banks of the Bruinen. Elrond's focus never failed, but it shifted, and, sometimes, the boundaries shifted with it. It was a slight motion, compared to the overall scope of Imladris. Nevertheless, when the protection retreated, tide-like, one could find himself stranded... Then again, the patrols were doubled since yesterday. They would locate Estel and turn him back long before the boy could reach such a place. If Estel was indeed abroad while the orcs roamed the wilds. Which idea Lindir liked not at all.

He would have liked to talk to lord Elrond or to his twin sons on the matter of his absent pupil. But Elrond had called an urgent meeting this very morning, and Elladan and Elrohir went with him. So Lindir enquired about Estel in the great hall, where nobody had seen the boy this day. Lindir found two off-duty guards in the courtyard and asked them.

'Surely the boy had heard about the trouble near the borders. He wouldn't go into the woods at such a time,' said the first guard.

Lindir smiled and bowed. These were his thoughts exactly, but did that entail that a human child's reflections would follow the same logic? Somehow, the elf doubted that.

The second guard looked Lindir over, a smile tugging at his lips.

'Can't find your charge? You know that no member of this household would have let the boy go into the woods, today. He's inside, somewhere. Probably laughing at you, right now.'

Lindir grinned. Yes, that seemed like Estel. Still, the elf went to the gardens to see if he could find any sign of the boy's whereabouts. But Lindir was a singer, not a tracker. He surveyed the soil summarily, shrugged and turned back towards the house. Could Estel truly be playing hide and seek inside these very walls? Imladris contained enough rooms, passages and recesses to take the whole day, if not a week, should Lindir decide to search them all.

'Lord and Lady!' he muttered helplessly. 'Do I have a choice?'

Lindir would search. Though, faced with such an odd prospect, the elf wondered where to start. Was he supposed to know what a human child would do? Where he would go? Lord Elrond was best placed to answer such questions. However, the master of Imladris had more pressing matters on his hands at the moment. Lindir had no wish to disturb him.

But when the sun started her western descent, Lindir felt that, will he or nill he, but disturb lord Elrond he must. He approached the council room and blinked in surprise, seeing two guards posted outside the doors.

'I need to speak to our lord.'

The guards shook their heads.

'No. Please wait until the meeting is over.'

The guards eyed the small group of elves that had followed Lindir. The cook, the kitchen maids, several ellyth from the healing ward, and even some sentinels off-duty stood a little distance away. All of them had been helping to search the house.

'I can't wait,' insisted Lindir. 'We can't find our lord's ward.'

The heavy arched doors opened suddenly. Elrond stepped into the corridor filled with the golden light of the setting sun. His gaze fell on the gathered elves.

'Lindir? What is the matter?'

The elf stepped forward.

'My lord,' he bowed, his eyes dark, his face paler than usual. 'We have been searching the house for hours. We can't find Estel.'

Elrond's gaze sharpened like a knife.

'My son is missing? Today of all days?'

Lindir hung his head and, uncharacteristically, fumbled for words.

'Yes, my lord, but... But surely, with the tidings of orcs so near the borders, Estel would not... He would not...?'

Elrond's eyes drifted shut. When the elf lord lifted his gaze once more, his face was shadowed with pain.

'I deemed Estel too young for such tidings. He doesn't know about the threat.'

Lindir gasped as his previous misgivings came rushing back. The patrols were stretched thin. Should they come under attack, should they not be there when Estel neared a border... Lindir swallowed.

'My lord...,' he stammered, uncertain how to voice his thoughts. 'My lord,' Lindir started again, but couldn't finish.

He didn't need to. There was a tightness about Elrond's eyes and a stillness in his posture that bespoke of emotions held tightly in check. Elrond's face was ashen with the effort.

'Aye, Lindir,' the master of Imladris said softly.

Elladan and Elrohir appeared in the doorframe of the council room. They approached their father, bowed silently, then spun on their heels and left at a run.

Elrond watched his sons' retreating backs with sad eyes.

'My lord,' lamented Lindir, 'I should have come before you sooner.'

* * *

Elladan and Elrohir didn't know what had guided their steps towards the old oak. Instinct, perhaps, or maybe some other sense that had avoided them a fruitless search across the Imladris grounds. The sons of Elrond had been hunters for centuries. They saw the slight imprints of boots, too small to belong to an adult, that Lindir had missed. The footprints led from the base of the tree, towards a bush and into a grove. Elladan and Elrohir followed, their eyes never leaving the ground. They ran when the tracks were clear enough, which was not often. Just this once, the twins regretted the swift way in which the human boy, whom they had taken under their wing, had learned to conceal his presence in the woods. The quickly approaching dusk slowed their progress even further. Icy fear sped the young elves' hearts and lit their eyes. They cursed now this game between Estel and them that they had allowed to continue. They had always found their little brother before. But today, when the danger was lurking at the very doorstep of their home, they hadn't followed. Having spent the day in the council room, discussing the best ways to rid the surrounding grounds of orcs, they hadn't realized there was a need to follow Estel until it was so very late.

Elladan and Elrohir knew the exact moment when they had passed beyond the protection of their father's realm. They felt the crossing like a subtle, yet unmistakable, jarring in their bones. Would a human, to whom they had never spoken about this feeling, know what to look for? Elladan and Elrohir had believed the time too early for such discussions. They cursed themselves anew, seeing Estel's footprints continue even further beyond the protected limits of the vale. They followed until the tracks veered clear of the wood and dipped towards the river. The two elves came to the riverside as the dying sun was coloring the sky in blood-red hues. Elrohir stumbled to a halt and stood swaying like one wounded. His mouth went dry. His vision clouded as something ugly strove to claw its way out of his chest. Or was it searching its way in? Elrohir neither knew nor cared as he gazed, unblinking, at the three orc corpses sprawled by the river, where his human brother had fought alone.

Elladan breathed a prayer as he approached the blood-stained ground. In the mud he saw a soiled cloth, the ruined food and a familiar sword that was too small for a fully grown elven warrior. It lay, glittering dully, its blade shattered, its owner nowhere to be found. Elladan fell to his knees. The orcs had taken Estel.

A hand came to rest on Elladan's shoulder. Shuddering, he looked up into his brother's face. Deathly pale Elrohir seemed to him - lips white, skin almost translucent – like a shade in the evening's lengthening shadows. But Elrohir's dry eyes shone and burned with a feverish fire. The blaze found an answering source within Elladan and spread inside him, overpowering. Elladan rose to his feet. The twin sons of Elrond looked at each other a moment longer, then Elrohir fled towards Imladris, to bring word and to return with help. Elladan sprang to follow the heavy footsteps of the orcs that led back into the forest and away from Rivendell.

* * *

A mounted elven troop caught up with Elladan when the stars were already glittering between the clouds. Elladan stopped, panting and shivering as if ill. He was ill, with the need to carry on the hunt. Elladan's eyes widened at the sight of lord Elrond riding at the head of the group, with Glorfindel on his right and Elrohir on his left. Elladan wondered briefly at the presence of his father, but he didn't have the time to dwell on it. A contingent of thirty warriors followed Elrond, and Elladan's own mount ran riderless among them. The warriors slowed down enough for Elladan to leap astride his horse. Then they were off again, galloping into the night, bending low over the necks of their horses to avoid low branches.

Elladan, his fingers tangled in the dark mane, felt his heart thud and lurch against the solid warmth of his steed. He glanced sideways at his brother, wondering whether Elrohir too felt the urge of the hunt like a fever in his blood. Elrohir returned his look with a humorless smile. Elladan saw his twin's hand tremble.

Their father was watching them, Elladan realized. Slowly, something started to ease within Elladan's chest. His breathing evened. Elladan narrowed his eyes. No! He hadn't asked for an appeasement. He didn't want it. Right now, all he wished was to feel the rush of the air on his face and the thud of the hooves beneath him. This chase and this intoxication were his. Elladan broke the eye contact with his father and stared straight ahead, where the darkness surged up to meet him.

The orcs had charged through the forest, heedless of the ferns and bushes. Their trail was easy to follow. The elves made good speed at first, but soon the trees closed in on them and the undergrowth became too dense to negotiate at speed. Illuminated by their own torches, the elves became an easy target for any fell creature that roamed the night. They needed silence and caution. They needed to make camp and assign the watch. Elrond called a halt.

* * *

Estel struggled to open his eyes. The world loomed before him, shadowy and swaying, but the pinkish veil lifted little by little to reveal a pale dawn. Estel blinked, confused. Where did the night disappear? And why did he sleep with his face pressed against a wall? No, not a wall, a tree, understood the boy, as a rough bark scraped against his temple. Above him, the bright yellow leaves of a big chestnut glistened with dew. Estel took in his surroundings curiously. He was in a small clearing, but he couldn't see much aside from the greenery of the brambles at the edge of the tree-line. His face was turned to one side and, try as he might, the boy was unable to twist his head around.

_What's the matter with me? __Why can't I move?_

He looked at his left arm, the only one that he could see, as if in a dream. The understanding was slow to come, but when it did, the panic flared so bright that Estel had to clench his jaws in order to quell a scream. He was tied, roped like an animal. There were binds round his arms and his back, holding him in place. The front of Estel's body was pressed against the chestnut and his arms encircled the bole in a wide embrace.

Estel squeezed his eyes shut.

_Think,_ he admonished the part of him that wanted to wail in fear._ Just breathe and think._

For a moment longer, nothing existed but the wild thump of his heart. His head and right arm throbbed frantically with his heartbeat. But the rush of blood in his ears calmed a little. Bit by tiny bit, Estel coaxed his memory to clear.

He remembered the blood and the cold fear in the pit of his stomach. He had been surrounded and overmatched, but had slashed and thrust until a hand had closed around his sword arm, and yanked. Something had twisted in his elbow. The sword was ripped away. Afterwards... everything became unclear. He had been carried through the darkness, slung over a shoulder. Twigs had scratched at his face. The orcs had laughed. The orcs... Estel went rigid.

_Run! Flee! Get away!_ screeched the fear inside his mind.

Unable to control himself, the boy twisted in his bonds. He couldn't move. He couldn't run! Estel ground his teeth against a moan.

_Stay calm. Think. Think!_

It was daylight. The orcs had stopped for the day. The elves, who did not fear the sunlight, would come. Something had delayed Elladan and Elrohir, but Estel knew without any shadow of a doubt that his brothers would find him. He just had to play unconscious a little longer and not give the orcs any occasion for sport.

It was too late for that, though. His struggles had already alerted his captors. Heavy footsteps sounded behind Estel's back.

'Awake, cur?'

Estel barely recognized the Westron, the language his mother spoke to him, in those thick, rasping words. A clawed hand seized his collar from behind and pulled. There came a sharp, tearing sound, as the orc rent Estel's jerkin and his warm tunic in one single motion. The boy pressed himself tighter against the tree. He tried, and failed, to calm his breathing. The cold was licking at his bare back and more beasts were closing in, forming a half-circle behind him. How many were there? Twenty? Thirty? Estel couldn't tell, but the light of the day recoiled before their darkness.

'You kill mine. You pay,' grated the orc who had approached him first.

_This is the leader of this pack, then?_ wondered Estel as shivers born from the autumn chill and helplessness coursed down his spine.

'Scream for me,' finished the orc.

A whip hissed like a snake behind Estel. The boy pressed his forehead to the tree and clutched at the rough bark with white fingers.

'Adar, help me,' he whispered, and then bit his lips to stifle a cry.

Elrond had never laid a hand on him, much less flogged. Now, each blow seemed to cleave Estel in half. He stiffened, unable to breathe, yet his heart fluttered against his ribs like a caged bird. A ringing rose in his ears and a sob constricted his chest, threatening to spill forth. Estel squeezed his eyes shut. He would not show his pain to these creatures. He would not! But he could not hold back the tears. They overflowed, wetting his cheeks and his neck, and darkening the front of his ruined tunic. The orcs jeered.

They howled in disappointment when the sun broke through the treetops. The cur had just started to yelp. He would squeal soon now. But the sky was clear and the white shards of light tired them, hurt their eyes. Their leader brought the whip down one more time, eliciting a delicious whimper, then clipped it back onto his belt. The orcs retreated into the darker shadows of the forest. They would wait the day out so that their pleasure could continue.

Long moments passed before Estel could think again. He wanted to turn westwards, where Imladris lay, but could not. So he lifted his eyes towards the branches and prayed in silence. Blood was flowing down his back. It soaked his breeches that clung to his skin, cold and wet. The despair came to Estel in dark waves. He fought to push it away.

_It is daylight__, _the boy told himself, rubbing his cheek against the tree. _The orcs are not moving, but the elves are. They will come soon._

The morning passed slowly. Not a sound came from the forest as the animals avoided the orcs. The birds were silent. At noon, the sun filled the small clearing but could not reach the boy through the foliage of the chestnut tree. Held up by the ropes, Estel slept fitfully, jerking awake and gasping as the memory and the pain were thrust upon him anew each time.

In the evening only did the slanting sunrays finally reach the boy. Estel's eyelids fluttered without lifting. The blood had dried on his torn back and the lacerations had scabbed, transforming the smallest movement in agony. The slight warmth of the sun touched him with timid fingers, as if afraid. Estel sighed, feeling his shivers abate gradually.

The sun had almost set when the hoarse voices filled the clearing once more. The despair, held at bay by the boy's will alone, reared up its head.

'Adar, help me,' whispered Estel. 'Brothers, where are you?' He licked his dry lips. 'Mother...'

A hand fisted in his hair and pulled Estel's head back until his neck was craned painfully. The boy's eyes flew open. A dark face, creased and scarred, looked down on him. The mouth opened in a yellow-fanged scowl.

'Speak dirty elves tongue again, cur, and I slit your throat.'

The orc tilted Estel's head back even further. The boy gasped in pain.

The beast's respiration quickened. Its hungry eyes fastened on the blue vein that pulsed in the outstretched neck. The whelp stank of fear and of blood. How enticing. The orc, growling deep in his throat, moved in closer.

Estel's head struck the tree when the clawed hand released him. Dazed, he felt a warm wetness trickle down his face. Estel sniffed and tasted blood. The world came into a sharp focus as the orc shifted behind him, pressing close. There were claws in Estel's hair again, and a large hand on his hip. The grip made the boy's hair stand on end. He arched away with a moan, unable to bear the pressure upon his torn back, but the tree held him in place. Little, helpless breaths shook Estel like sobs. A whole day had passed. Where was his father, his brothers? Would they not come for him?

The orc was flush against him now, panting and pawing. Estel's senses screeched a warning. The fear overrode the pain as he bucked and fought, his eyes wild. But there was nothing that he could do. Only watch the trees as the sun set down and hope. Hope, even when a gnarled hand tore at his breeches, that the elves, that somebody would come for him.

* * *

**Babschwi** : I'm glad you liked the opening chapter. This one was even darker. Was it to your liking as well? I promise to update, but I can't promise to update quickly. I'll do my best, but I am a slow writer. And, at this moment, the time I can take for writing is limited. Thank you for reading and reviewing!

**Oleanne** : Thank you again for reviewing. Your questions helped to shape the first half of this chapter. Of course, all the notions about the effects (and the shifting aspect) of Elrond's power are pure speculations on my behalf. I wonder if I cleared up things or mucked them up even further. Thank you for reading!


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